


Spoonful of Sugar

by legallyblained



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2038998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legallyblained/pseuds/legallyblained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I thought a sleepover with Blaine, Brittany and Sugar would be funny...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoonful of Sugar

“Blaine!”

Blaine was surprised when he turned to see Sugar two inches away from his face, flanked by Brittany and Santana.

“Oh, um, hi Sugar… What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you what’s up, cutie. Rachel thinks she’s some kind of sleepover queen just because she’s got Kurt and the sassy one, and I’m not cool with it. She’s welcome to them; I’ve decided to beat her. My slumber party’s going to be even gayer than hers, because I’m inviting you and Brittany S. Pierce, and my dad’s commissioned a special flavour of popcorn to be made just for us. Sugar flavour. It’s gonna be sweet. So I’ll see you Friday at six, my house. Bring your jammies. But I’ll buy some new ones for you in case yours aren’t cute enough.”

Blaine stood in stunned silence. The three girls were all grinning at him. Sugar looked determined, her eyes wide and Brittany was just excited, but Santana had a hint of smugness about her.

“Wait, surely you can’t invite Brittany and _not_ her girlfriend? Santana, don’t you mind?” He glared at her, a little scared of being left alone with the others for a whole night.

“Blaine, I’m _shocked_ that you think I’m that kind of girl. I think it’ll be great for Britt to have a night off from me, it’s only healthy. We don’t want to be one of those couples that always come as a pair.” She pinched his cheek. “Inviting you was _all_ my idea. I’m sure you’ll have a _blast_. Come on Britt, we’ll be late for class.” Brittany pounced on Blaine, her pinky still linked with Santana’s, squeezing him into submission.

“Blaine, this is gonna be awesome. I can’t wait to braid your hair and tell you scary stories. Well, I won’t tell them. I’m bringing Lord Tubbington; he tells them better than me anyway, but I’ve drawn pictures to go with them. They’ve got rainbows in the background in case you get too scared.”

She was so excited when she skipped down the corridor with Santana, Blaine couldn’t bring himself to say no. Anyway, Sugar was glaring at him so fiercely he was scared to.

“No problem! Can’t wait!” He raised his shoulders and forced a grin. “Friday. Cool. I’ll bring a couple of mov-“

“No you won’t. I have all the movies we need. Just bring yourself.”

She planted a kiss on his cheek, like a child copying the way she’d seen her mother behave with her friends, smearing her bright pink lipstick on his face.

“And don’t bring Kurt. He’d just spy on us for Rachel.”

She was gone in a flash, leaving Blaine standing dumbstruck in front of his locker. He snapped out of his daze when he felt a pinch at his waist and a brief kiss on his cheek.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“I’m not really sure what… what just happened…”

Kurt raised an eyebrow.

“Are you OK?”

“I’m fine, I just… I think I just made plans for this Friday.”

***

“Well, what are you standing there for? Come _in_!” Sugar grabbed Blaine by the wrist and dragged him into the Motta mansion. He didn’t know how anyone could afford this just from selling pianos, but he couldn’t help being impressed.

“Blaine! You’re here! I’m so excited!” Brittany hopped in front of him, snatching him from Sugar, twirling him into a hug and lifting him a foot off the ground. She was in pale blue shorts and a t-shirt with fluffy slippers that made her look like Chewbacca with pigtails, and Sugar was wearing a fuchsia nightie and a purple dressing gown. Blaine looked down at his bag and held back a groan. It was already PJ o’clock.

“Hurry up, half pint. We’ve got a lot of fun to have so we can’t waste any time; you need to get changed, like, yesterday.”

“So,” A booming voice rounded the corner, followed by Mr Motta himself, “This must be the young Mr Anderson I’ve heard so much about.”

Blaine recoiled automatically as the orange skin and white teeth bore down on him, seemingly about ten feet tall.

“Oh, you can call me Blaine. Nice to meet you.” He extended a hand, and Mr Motta shook it deliberately, squeezing just a little too hard.

“Lovely. You can keep calling me Mr Motta.” He didn’t let go of Blaine’s hand. “So, you’re planning on spending the night with my little Sugar lump?”

“Sorry?”

“Daddy, I told you, we’re having a sleepover. No funny business, I swear. Anyway, Blaine’s gay.” Mr Motta cocked his head and frowned.

“Really? Gay?”

Blaine smiled.

“Yep; boyfriend and everything.”

Motta beamed.

“Well in that case, son, you can call me Al! Pleasure!”

“Great to meet you, Al! And if you’re worried about that,” he glanced at Brittany, “then I’m not the one you need to-” Sugar elbowed him in the ribs.

“So Daddy, we’re just going to go and watch a couple of movies and eat and have lots of pillow fights and girl talk and stuff - normal, gay, sleepover things; nothing for you to worry about.” She went on tip-toes to give him a peck on the cheek and he rolled his eyes as the three of them bounded upstairs towards her room, Blaine a little apprehensively.

Blaine wished he could say he was surprised by Sugar’s room, but it was more or less exactly what he’d expected. The carpet was as fluffy as Britt’s feet, everything was pink and red and heart-shaped and sparkly, and the bed was bigger than his living room, a leopard print bedspread across it. An obese cat has dibs on the biggest cushion, and was glaring at him haughtily. Blaine had never seen a cat look haughty before and he struggled to take it all in, but Brittany just screamed and leapt onto the bed, immediately lying on her front.

“So, guys, I have big plans for tonight. I’ve got the perfect DVD for us to watch; it’s British so it’s super cultural and important, and the freezer’s over there, full of ice cream. Help yourselves.” Blaine finally grinned properly at the thought of Phish Food, but as he started to make his way towards the magenta freezer, Sugar stuck her arm out. “Not yet. Lemme see those PJs.”

“Oh, OK. Here.” He pulled out his sweatpants and a t-shirt. Sugar stared at them, wide-eyed, for at least ten seconds.

“No no, those won’t do. Fortunately, I’ve been preparing for such a turn of events.” She darted over to her cupboard and pulled out a neatly wrapped, navy blue silk bundle with a ribbon tied around it. “You can wear these. It’s not a real slumber party without decent jammies.”

Blaine’s face fell. He felt like Sugar’s latest toy, but he really wanted ice cream, and Brittany was kicking her feet in excitement, waiting to get started, so he took a deep breath and ventured towards the bathroom. When he got back, Britt and Sugar were on the bed under a blanket stuffing their faces with popcorn. Sugar was poised with the remote.

“So, what are we watching?” Blaine had to admit, he looked pretty adorable in the pyjamas, and the silk was really soft. He perched on the bed next to Brittany, and she wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, making sure he got sufficient blanket coverage.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure. The title’s awesome though – Sugar Rush. I think it’s about some amazing girl called Sugar who gets all the boys and goes to parties and has a lot of fun.”

Blaine frowned as she pressed play. He was sure Kurt had mentioned it before. Or was it Santana? It definitely rang a bell, but he’d never seen much British TV. He shrugged, and delved into the popcorn, shoving a handful straight into his mouth. It was so sweet he almost choked, but he actually kind of liked it. He was distracted by a buzzing noise. It was probably Kurt, providing him with the possible get-out clause like they’d arranged. He was going to call with a fake emergency, but Blaine had already decided he was going to stay. He loved Brittany and rarely got to see her without Santana, and Sugar couldn’t be that bad. He reached for his phone, but it was blank. No missed calls. What was the buzzing?

He glanced at the girls, who were staring at the screen, awestruck. Sugar’s jaw was almost on the floor, her eyes wide, and Brittany’s eyes were almost popping out of her head, but unlike Sugar, she was grinning and biting her lip. Blaine didn’t know what the hell was going on until he finally looked at the screen.

“OH MY GOD! WHAT IS SHE- BUT HOW- GIRL, YOU BRUSH YOUR TEETH WITH THAT!”

After the initial shock, Blaine managed to quieten himself down so as not to get Mr Motta’s attention. This was already embarrassing enough. He kept mumbling to himself, having been exposed to more than he ever wanted to see or hear about girls.

“I just… I don’t understand, I mean, is it just a British thing?” He pretended not to notice as Brittany shook her head. “Why would you put that in a TV show? I don’t get it, I just, oh my god, girls are so, like, it was her _toothbrush…_ more than anything it’s just bad oral hygiene… I’ve never been so glad to be gay…”

Sugar was still staring at the screen. She was frowning with annoyance.

“No.”

“I know, it’s-”

“No, Blaine, not the show… this just isn’t how it was supposed to go. This isn’t what happens at sleepovers. People aren’t supposed to freak out and yell. Blaine, you’re ruining it.”

“What? I- I’m sorry, Sugar, it just took me by surprise…”

“You hate it, don’t you? I got it wrong. I picked the wrong DVD. I just wanted it to be perfect, and what’s more perfect than Sugar, right, but this isn’t sweet at _all_.”

Brittany took her hand and squeezed it.

“No, Sugar, it’s fine. I like it.”

“Of course _you_ like it, but we were all supposed to be having fun, and now Blaine’s going to have post-traumatic stress from all the vaginas…”

Blaine felt awful. Sugar obviously just wanted to be one of the group. He knew how she felt; he joined a club that was already a family and it had been terrifying, and at least he had Kurt. Sugar didn’t really have anyone.

“No, Sugar, it’s… it’s great. It’s daring for a show to do that; I doubt any American shows would be that brave. It’s a very bold dramatic move.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Nope. It’s great. We can keep watching it.”

“But we’re meant to do other stuff too. I thought we were going to do face masks and paint each other’s nails and stuff, but maybe you’re not gay enough.”

Blaine was about to be insulted, but he knew she had good intentions. Before he could defend his gayness, Brittany had leapt off the bed.

“Right. Where’s your nail polish?”

An hour later, there was a timid knock at the door.

“Sugar, sweetie pie? Are you all decent?”

Blaine grabbed the remote and pressed pause. Sugar’s reply was muffled.

“We sure are, Daddy, come on in!”

Al Motta poked his head in to see the three of them sprawled on the bed, flushed from giggling so much, Brittany sticking her tongue out as she tried to play with Blaine’s hair, teasing it into impossibly tiny bunches, while he painted Sugar’s toenails. She was trying hard not to kick him in the face as he held onto her feet, repeatedly pressing on the spot on her sole that was especially ticklish. Her face was frozen under a mint green mask, which cracked when she grinned at her father.

“Just wanted to check everything was going OK in here. Looks like you’re all getting on fine!”

Blaine turned to smile at him, tugging half of his hair free but leaving the other half tied up as he brandished a bottle of crimson nail varnish.

“We’re doing great, Al. Thanks for inviting us!”

Mr Motta tried not to laugh at him. At least he was definitely gay.

“You’re welcome, son. I’ll, uh… I’ll leave you to it. Shout if you need anything.”

He burst out laughing as soon as he closed the door, but they didn’t notice. Blaine concentrated even harder on Sugar’s nails as she pressed play again, momentarily losing her concentration. She looked back at Blaine and he had a bright red smear on his jaw.

“Thanks, Sugar.”

“Oh, Blaine, I’m sorry. I guess you’ll have to start over. Then we’re doing yours. Hands _and_ feet.”

His mouth fell open. He looked back at Britt, who had finally let his hair loose and was stroking his curls tentatively and nodding furiously at him, and he knew he had no say in the matter. He rolled his eyes as if he was far too mature for this nonsense, before painting a blob on the end of Sugar’s nose. She squealed and kicked at his arm, smearing red all over it. He screwed the lid back on before throwing a pillow at Sugar’s face, and Brittany jumped on top of both of them until they were tangled in a giggling bundle, smashing each other with pillows and getting half-melted ice cream everywhere. Sugar made a grab for the yellow polish while Brittany sat on his chest to keep him still.

***

Blaine tried to figure out where he was.

His cheek was resting on something soft and smooth. It was moving slowly up and down. He blinked hard a few times and cleared his throat, trying to look down at the mystery surface, when it started to roll over. He noticed a belly button brushing against his nose, and realised he’d somehow fallen asleep on Brittany’s stomach. He tried to stretch out, but found his leg was trapped in Sugar’s arms. His head was pounding from all the sugar. He could see his phone lighting up in front of him, but the idea of reaching out to answer it was horrifying. He’d only been hungover a couple of times, but this felt so much worse. At least this time the buzzing was definitely his phone and not… _oh god_. He almost threw up a combination of ice cream, popcorn and nail polish fumes. 

He heaved himself onto his elbow and picked the phone up, answering it and letting his eyes fall closed again as he dropped his head onto a pillow instead of his friend’s torso.

“Mmm?”

“Good afternoon, sweetness!”

“Kuuuurrrt… my head… why are you being so loud?”

“Oh, sorry Blaine, is this loud?”

“Ow…”

“It’s just that it’s 3pm and you’re supposed to be at my house-”

“What? 3?”

“Yes, Blaine! Three. P. M. Are you still at Sugar’s house?”

“I… I think so. It’s pink. Everything’s pink. My brain is pink. My blood isn’t red any more. It’s pink. It’s strawberry ice cream and it’s being pumped through my body by a lump of cotton candy in my chest… Kurt, stop laughing. You’re supposed to be mad at me. Just be mad at me again, you’re so quiet when you’re angry…”

“It sounds like you’re already being punished. Blaine, what did she do to you? Did she stick a funnel in your mouth and pour syrup down your throat?”

“We… we watched a thing with a toothbrush, and Britt played with my hair – shut up, Kurt – and they- wait-” Kurt almost dropped his phone from laughing so much, while Blaine turned to let his phone rest on his cheek so he wouldn’t have to move his other arm, and inspected his nails. “Oh my god.”

“What? There’s more? Blaine, what is it?”

“My nails.”

“They didn’t!”

“They, uh… yeah.”

“What colour? Let me guess; pink?”

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, there’s some pink in there…”

“Please tell me they’re rainbows, Blaine. Please. I don’t care if it’s a lie; just humour me. I’ll totally forgive you for being late.”

“I thought you’d decided I’d been punished enough?”

“Blaine, the suspense is killing me. Please, pretty please, tell me you have spirit fingers.”

“Yeah, they’ve got spirit.”

“Well?”

“Kurt… I have unicorns on my nails.”

He whimpered in pain as Kurt screamed with laughter.

“Are you serious? _Unicorns?_ Blaine, that’s really gay.” He gasped for breath in between cackles. “That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard. We’ve had _sex_ less gay than _unicorn nails_. That’s it, I’m coming over. I want to shake those girls’ hands. And I need to see these nails before you get your hands on polish remover.”

“No, Kurt, can’t you wait a while? So I can get changed and stuff?”

“Why can’t you just wear your pyjamas? You can look like a slob for a day.”

“Normally I would… but um…”

Blaine could practically hear Kurt’s head explode with joy.

“No way!”

“Kurt, my head-”

“She bought you some, didn’t she? She dressed you up!”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have put them on if I-” he realised, too late, that he was making it worse.

“You liked them! This is perfect, Blaine! Don’t you dare get changed; I’m coming right now.”

“But Kurt-”

“Please, Blaine, the least you can do is let me get a picture-”

“No, Kurt, I promise I won’t change, you’ll get your picture… but could you give us a couple more hours? This is… I don’t know. It’s actually pretty fun. Sugar’s a lot sweeter than we give her credit for.”

Kurt smiled. Blaine could tell.

“Sure. How does six sound?”

“That’d be great. Thanks. Kurt, am I an idiot?”

“Maybe. But you’re my idiot.”

“Well, I guess until six I’m theirs. See you later. Love you.”

Blaine paused after hanging up. He glanced at the cat, who didn’t seem to have moved since last night.

“So, Tubbs. You think you can be cool about this? You promise not to tell anyone how much I liked last night?”

He took the silence and the judgemental expression as a confidentiality agreement.

He grinned at the girls lying awkwardly on the bed, one slinging to his leg and one in what could only be described as a swastika formation. They looked peaceful. It was boring. Blaine grabbed two pillows and smacked them in the faces.


End file.
